The cruise had been yesterday, and Colton had spent the last 34 hours sat on the floor of his flat with a packed bag by his side and a crushing sense of self-loathing, splitting his time between trying not to cry and staring aimlessly at the blank television screen. On his 35th hour, he thought that maybe he should attempt to stop feeling quite so sorry for himself, and should instead go and apologise to Philip for wasting the tickets. So he took 45 minutes to shower and get dressed so he looked presentable, then found a bottle of red wine in the back of his cupboard and tied a ribbon around it, deciding that it would do nicely as an 'I'm sorry' gift. Not even thinking about whether or not Philip would even be available, he found the address in his phone notes and managed to grab a taxi. About twenty minutes later, he was rubbing his palms nervously together, not only out or worry but it was fucking freezing in the evenings these days, and he hadn't worn his warmest coat. Colton knocked on the door and waited, only then considering that Philip might not be in, or might not want to see him.